


and our love song seeps through the billows of the Rhône

by opium_noir (kavescica)



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Romance, Romantic Fluff, wenrene - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kavescica/pseuds/opium_noir
Summary: Seungwan finds herself all over in love again as she watches the sun set behind the snowy, sparkling peaks of the mountains jewelled with the frozen silhouette Joohyun's figure casts.





	and our love song seeps through the billows of the Rhône

 

 

 

**and our love song seeps through the billows of the Rhône**

 

It's something in that feeble coating of rime splattered across the sides of large window panels that grace Joohyun's svelte figure with flowers blooming from pearlescent frost, something somewhat indescribably delicate, somewhat unspeakably serene. It's something that musses over Seungwan's heartstrings until they become a tangled mess of myriad beats milling against her ribcage a tad too fast, something that heats her cheeks up and sets her ears ablaze on the coldest of days, something that dips the world she sees a lovely rosy tint, dripping with that faint shampoo scent always falling from Joohyun's hair when she pulls Seungwan into a big hug with her beloved arms to her beloved chest, long and tight and tender for anyone to believe they're nothing more than just friends.

 

The skies are painted in lilac, spilling molten sprinkles of greyish clouds over the mountains peaking covered in snow outside the windows. It seems to have mimicked the way temperature dyes their lips a shade purpler, a shade bluer and darker as it drops low below icy zeros, the tips of their noses cold with ruddiness like the lights glimmering in the lampposts that border the white humps in the courtyard and trace the journey of those daring to take one last slide that day down the tracks craved into frozen ridges of the sierra. Seungwan's hands are getting cool just by peeking out for a second on the sparkling ski slopes running down with elegance into the dim twilight, a little rough and uneven, a little bit in the need to be groomed again by now - her fingers burn the skin on the back of her hand as she's pulling her sleeves up to her knuckles to warm them the most she can, and she wishes Joohyun saw the way she shivers with each snowflake smoothing onto the window, that pristine glass avalanche separating them, turning her back sharply to the mountains and finally returning to the hall.

 

 _Returning to her one and only Seungwan_ ; a more specific approach.

 

A splinter of orange light colour her eyes with sweet frenzy, her gaze dripping honey as she watches the flaming dusk slowly setting behind Joohyun - the sun's disk ablaze, shattered into a million pieces on the mountaintop -, her shadow like ink across the snow, growing large over the traces those brand new, delicate ankle boots of hers leave behind all around the resort's yard. It's auburn suede, Seungwan remembers, they had bought it together back in February, two days and a month before Joohyun's twenty-fourth birthday and almost a year since they started dating. Joohyun had tried on so many pairs, so many shades of fawnish leather brushing her small, nylon-coated feet, the afterimages of that evening burnt vividly into Seungwan's memory; they eventually dug up the perfect shoes, and Joohyun changed her old, cold oxfords for those gorgeous suedettes right away after they left the shop, and later on-- Later on, back in Seungwan's cozy apartment, Joohyun took off those boots and took off everything else she'd been wearing alongside them - her frothing blouse, tucked hastily yet enchantingly into her skinny jeans, that tight blue fabric and those sheer brown thigh-highs underneath - until all she had left on were her silk bra and beautiful black lace knickers. She's always been the type whose vigour never faded as long as she could bring something new home to widen her collection of clothes and goods, no matter how many hours and how much energy shopping drained from her, and in times like that, with the faint promise of the hotness Joohyun's kisses revoked in her body, Seungwan couldn't have been more willing to accompany her love.

 

There are little snowflakes clinging to the fur trimmed to Joohyun's puffy parka, a satin glimmer blending into the sapphire clarity of ice-glazed pistes and pines fitted with hats pouring of hoarfrost. The couple sinking into one of those plush, velvety red couches across the coffee table that Seungwan had placed her mug on seem to be speaking French, but she doesn't know for sure - a melange of discernible words Seungwan's ears bemusedly pick up from the slurred polyphony their soft chat is to her senses lose their meaning amongst syllables familiar yet still too differing from those voices living in the remnants of her memories of junior high back in Canada. They could actually be speaking a mixture of Swiss; she's too focused on the girl outside to examine their little speech now. The way those jet-black jeans coat her legs a skin-tight layer is just simply too hyptonizing, and Seungwan wishes Joohyun would come inside - she wishes it was just the two of them, back up in their dimly lit suite, damp and messy with that faint, glowing trace of crimson from the drapes over full windows and from Joohyun's shapely lips, she wishes the jeans that line her slim yet sexy backside were a pair of sheer tights instead, their flimsy, tempting material flaking off under the brush of her nails.

 

A short buzz of sounds knocks Seungwan back to reality. Her phone on the coffee table in front of her vibrates against the clear glass, screen lighting up in neon blue as a notification wakes the little device. There's a message from Jonghyun, Joohyun's younger brother, she immediatly notices running white across her background - a picture snapped of two cats snuggling, their tails, ginger and black, shaping a heart together - as she takes the smartphone in her cold hands. The light from the screen paints a dull glow on Seungwan's pale, smooth face.

 

 _We'll arrive by noon tomorrow_ , his message reads, too far, too formal to be his own typing and Seungwan wonders whether it's Sooyoung who's taken hold of his phone or Jonghyun is just tipsy and tired on a plane high up in a sparkling haze that faultlessly mimics the pattern burning over the skies' blazing constellations, a modern samolet sojourning the clouds from Seoul across Europe, where the stewardess is spelling German and his seatmates are debating just which Baltic nation to visit the next round they come by those lands. Seungwan can only recall the memories of their own trip, with the exception of that day-long bus ride dropping them off near to the ski resort in an idle village of Switzerland - Joohyun doesn't yet know her brother and his girlfriend are on their way to join them the next day, sort of a celebration of her twenty-sixth birthday; a dazed surprise from Seungwan, an euphoric reunion her love has been dreaming of since the very days they had switched their homely Yongsan residence for one in the glossy-glass Japanese metal-hills of Roppongi. It's nearly been four years, and they haven't had the fleeting chance to visit them, alongside both of their families, back home, safe and sound, in the Southern capital.

 

There's one more present Seungwan wishes to gift to Joohyun, though.

 

A blitz of stickers follows the message Jonghyun had sent, and Seungwan eases in her velvet-like divan. _It's all going to be fine,_ she reassures herself. She types away a reply to the boy, a joke to add to their flight and a beloved _hello, kisses_ directed to Sooyoung. Seungwan remembers the last day they had seen her, still seated in Joohyun's tidy tiny flat - their belongings regressed into tape-plasteted cardboard boxes, each marked with Joohyun's gorgeous handwritten hangul syllables and a sprinkle of Seungwan's little doodles of wild animals, something sort of their own that they had always matched when singing birthday and Christmas cards together for Jonghyun and their parents in late evenings of days before their hasty leaves to visit their relatives spattered all across the Southern peninsula. It was the night Sooyoung first had her hair dyed, and it smelt so awful, she now recalls: a mixture of the remaining streaks hydrogen-peroxide left lingering in her locks and that vile scent of colour that washed her loose ponytail an ethereal bright red screwed their noses really bad. Seungwan wonders how Sooyoung's hair must look like right now, that she had not seen her, after all these long four years spent in separation.

 

"Wendy!"

 

Seungwan freezes in motion. She hears a name, _her name_ , she knows, too well, _oh_ \- there's a certain kind of loving beauty in the manner Joohyun lilts _Wendy_ , a tender serenade of unspoken fondness that would feel a little bit too serene for any Canadian, a bit too soft and a tad too buoyant, but she finds herself slipping into the whirlpool love offers each time Joohyun's devilishly alluring lips trace the sounds of the letter _W_ like no one else in their own divine universe could ever claim-- Seungwan's head over heels and it's all the fault of Joohyun, the seraphic lilin that's taken ahold of her heart with an angelic smile and a kiss of a fervour that could set fire to the whole world.

 

The abrupt touch Joohyun's fingers brush across her cheeks leads a spark of sensation down her neck, painting her skin a pinkish red where blood yearns for a second more of contact. Seungwan shuts her eyes and leans right back into her girlfriend's cold, jacket-covered embrace, her head setting on Joohyun's warm chest as Joohyhun crawls her hands over her fluttering lashes, raven locks of hair trickling apart, cascanding from her svelte shoulders above the very centre in Seungwan's racing heart.

 

"Jonghyun texted" she whispers and Joohyun stills in wait. She wants to tell her all he had said, seldom holding herself back from spilling the truth right there and now. "He said Sooyoung and he-- Sooyoung has taken up cooking and she's really into sweets; she'd readily bake any cake for your birthday if we were at home."

 

"Sooyoungie's still quite a charmer, huh?" Joohyun's fiddling with a strand of Seungwan's course, hay-like bleached hair: it's hot, it's sweet, and it's more than what Seungwan's tight chest can any longer have.

 

"I guess so..."

 

"Don't be jealous, Seungwan." Joohyun's laugh is sharp and sensual. Seungwan can feel her cheeks heat up a bright shade of red - Joohyun's breath tickles her ear as the older plants a kiss on her temple, lips a crimson stain like cherries from her new French rouge, nails oval and powder pink in her hazel fringe, and a spilt of heavy Chanel perfume lulls her sigh into a quiet draw of shortened breaths. "I'm not in the mood to admit it suits you more than it does suit me, love."

 

"Stop that, Joohyun." Seungwan mumbles and the older pulls her head tight to her chest. The brush of satin is black beneath Seungwan's flush lashes.

 

"You're so cute, Seungwan" she chimes. "So much cuter than any of those dull girls I'd dated back when I was young."

 

"Are you boasting about the success of your exotic dating history now?"

 

"Not at all." The couple across the coffee table have long vanished now. Seungwan tries to look away, but all she sees is Joohyun. "I'm trying to tell you I love you, Seungwan."

 

It may be the dead secret that all Seungwan wants is nothing more in this world than to be with Joohyun.


End file.
